Suppose
by Accidental Paradox
Summary: Primal Fear - The Butcher Boy is arrested, but nothing is quite as it seems...
1. The Hole

Disclaimer - I don't own any of the plotlines or characters from the books in the "Martin Vail Triliogy" written by William Diehl. The rest of it was created by me, and you should be able to tell which is which. Now, on with the story:

**"Suppose..."**  
  
**Prologue – The Hole**  
  
The dampness got into everything, under the skin, in the hair and even seemed to linger down the throat of the small boy, as he tripped and stumbled down the dark tunnel, dislodging stones as he went. As the walls closed in, the only ray of hope was the single bobbing light in the darkness, the dim bulb of an old torch, one that was nearly spent. The boy prayed it would stay lit, he didn't want to imagine the total, engulfing darkness that might follow the death of the light.  
  
His father led the way, muscles bulging under the thin vest. The boy was afraid of his father. His father controlled the light, controlled his fate. Many times he had cried and begged, but his father had said no. "Be a man" he had said. "It is our duty to bring money into the family" But the boy could see no money in this hellish place. The walls were black and empty, their jagged edges cutting his soft palms.

The fine dust in the air had settled on his face, but the blackness was broken by two white riverlets of tears. He had not stopped crying "Cryin' is for wimps, boy!" since he woke that morning, woke and saw what was at the end of his bed. A symbol of his fear, the signal that his nightmares were to come true. The boy had seen them many times before but this time it was for him, they thought he was ready. He had seen the yellow miner's hat at the end of his bed, yellow for a pitiful attempt to fight the power of the darkness, and had wept. He was nine years old that morning. He knew what came next.  
  
His father had taken him to the mine by a combination of yelling and pulling. He had been only once before, but everything he saw on the way had reminded him of the horror that lay within. He had cried the whole way, the too-big helmet knocking into his skull, the boots digging into his heels and his fathers stick jabbing him in the ribs. When they arrived, the lift had been waiting. It clanged shut with an agonising squeal, they had descended into the dark, the torches coming on, but the sun going out.  
  
Now the boy rushes to keep up through force of will, the only thing worse than what awaits him is the thought of being lost in the dark. Suddenly, the hulking figure stops, and the boy skids to a messy halt beside his father."Down there, boy. You know what to do, I told you before. Remember, you're not to come out 'til I say!" The boy edges closer, his legs shaking and his whole body drenched with sweat, though no warmth enters the bones of the mine. He sees the small sign, painted in white paint on a cheap plank of wood. His breath quickens, and he has no time to scream as he is pushed into the darkness. His momentum carries him forward, and he barely registers the torch in his hand. His sobs are heard over great distances through the stone, but they seem like the flow of water on a distant shore and go unnoticed among the Men of the mine - they have a duty to perform. Finally, they believe the flowing water has always been there, it is a part of the mine itself. 

The boy's father didn't know it, but more than the light would die in the mine that day..

------------------------------

"It's so dark..."  
  
The stone walls caused his words to whistle past him once more, taunting him for his weakness. His muscles ached already, and he had long ceased crying. His father had won, he was beaten. Every day now he came to The Hole, and worked. It did not make it any easier. Though he shed no tears, his small frame shook with fear, and his voice was a thin tremor amongst the drips of water and the distant echoing blasts. He had hoped that talking would lessen the fear, make the time in the Hole easier to bear. He now realised what a fool he had been. The months of darkness were building up inside him, the thoughts of the danger he faced were overwhelming, and no matter how hard he tried, they would not leave him alone.  
  
"Help..."  
  
He was far beyond shouting distance of his father, and the whisper that emerged from his chapped and blackened lips carried no further than a few feet. However, for the first time in six months, it was heard.  
  
"Hey, Sonny. What's the trouble?"  
  
The boy started and whirled around, but he could see no one. The tunnel was empty. He walked around the corner, and peered into the darkness.  
  
"Hello? Please help me..."  
  
"Jesus! Alright, alright, I'll help you! Will you just quit whinin' for a second and let me think!" said the new voice. It was sharp and clear, and the boy found it strangely familiar, though it had no trace of the familiar Appalachian tones he was used to.  
  
He ran a few more steps, feeling his way along the walls, but there was nothing to guide him, and he soon gave up.  
  
"Sonny, you ain't gonna find me down there. Now will you get yourself back to that wall and shut up while I think of a plan!"  
  
"What plan, Mister?"  
  
"Mister! Shit, that's a laugh! Alright, I can be "mister" to you sonny. You just listen to what I say, and we will get us both out of this place quick as anythin'."  
  
"You trapped too, mister?"  
  
"You could say that." The voice chuckled. "The sooner you do as I say the quicker we can show those idiots up top whose boss."  
  
"Okay, I'm goin'."  
  
The boy stumbled back along the tunnel, and found his tools. The voice spoke again, this time alarmingly close.  
  
"Right Sonny, I've got it. All I need you to do is to relax. Quit bein' scared, quit thinking altogether. That's it. Just kinda go to sleep..."  
  
The boy stood still for a long time, trying to blank out his thoughts. The voice though harsh was strangely compelling and he found its presence comforting. His tense little body relaxed for the first time in months, all the cares slipped away, his muscles sagged.

All of a sudden, he jerked his head upright like a marionette. His eyes were alive with excitement as he slowly surveyed the tunnel, and his gaze lighted upon the pickaxe on the ground. Smiling secretly, the boy wrapped his small hands around the handle, and cradled it to his chest like a favourite teddy: a look of triumph on his face.

Meanwhile, a small voice too quiet to hear continued to call out in the void.  
  
"Mister? Where am I? It's so dark..."


	2. All Change

**"Suppose..."**

**Chapter 2 – All Change**  
  
Just one second, that's all it took. One lousy second and everything would have been different – maybe. What if I had skipped that coffee? Well we wouldn't be here now, that's for sure. I was ready to get on out there and face the world – but what I ended up facing...well let's just say that If I had known, an extra cup of coffee wouldn't have covered it. Just one second! Damn, just a flash in the corner of my eye...

----------------------

May 1982, Chicago  
  
9:00am  
  
Martin Vail turned abruptly as the flicker of the television screen caught his attention. Warmed by an expert breakfast at "Butterflies", he was all set for his latest interview - and they had promised him a killer front page. However, his sense of adventure could not be repressed, and he slid back onto a stool as the words "Breaking News" flashed upon the tiny screen at the corner of the bar. The newsreader sounded hurried, and her eyes flickered anxiously around as she began the report.  
  
"Now we go live to The Hollows in the centre of Chicago, where a young boy has just been arrested in what is being described as "the most horrific murder the city has ever seen." The boy was caught at the scene, and after a brief chase apprehended several blocks away in an alley. The authorities are refusing to release any specific details at this time, but they have told us that both the victim and suspect are in their teens. Here is our reporter outside the main building known as The Hollows."  
  
A man's concerned, pinched face appeared on the screen. Behind him loomed what seemed to be an old warehouse. From the grimy windows above several terrified people peered down at the commotion in the street, and then darted out of sight as if to prevent themselves from becoming suspects. At the foot of the building, police had set up the usual barricades to keep back the hordes of reporters who surged against them, and the flashes from cameras were a continuous visual assault for anyone in the vicinity. The man was jostled violently as he began to speak, but he planted his feet firmly and squared his shoulders against the tide.  
  
"Thank you. Well as you can see there has been immediate attention drawn to this case, not least because of the reported savagery of the attack but also the swiftness with which the suspect has been apprehended. He is being held as we speak in the local station..."  
  
Vail had heard enough. Grabbing his tattered briefcase once more, he darted out of the door and headed straight for his office, the highly polished saloon doors clattering shut behind him. Some of the other customers muttered to themselves:  
  
"Obviously he has family there - "  
  
"What, one of the best attorneys in the State? No, he has a new case..."  
  
-------------------  
  
Continuing his general disregard for furniture, Vail threw open the door of his office with unnecessary force. Naomi looked up from her papers with an exasperated sigh.  
  
"Marty, what's the rush?"  
  
Not bothering to reply, he crossed the room to the filing cabinet and began rifling through papers.  
  
"Get on the phone to the Judge, Naomi: and the Chief of the Chicago PD. I want to visit that suspect as soon as possible."  
  
Naomi knew better than to ask: "What suspect?" She knew that there was only one case that could have possibly interested him. Working quickly, she picked up the telephone and began. Vail used his second line to call Tom Goodman, his investigator.  
  
"Hello? Tommy? I need you today."  
  
"Sorry Marty, but today isn't a good day."  
  
"What d'you mean?"  
  
"I'm in the hospital Marty. Keeled over last night. The Doc says it's my heart or something, but I'm not allowed out; won't be for a while. They want to operate."  
  
"Jesus, Tommy!"  
  
"I know, but this is what I get for going on too long, eh? Hopefully they'll sort it soon, and then I can be back on the job. I hope you can get along without me."  
  
"I'll do my best, but you were the number one Tommy."  
  
"Thanks, Marty. You'll come and visit, right?"  
  
"Course I will. See you."  
  
Vail hung up. His mind whirled in a confusion. Tom Goodman ill, and possible the biggest case of his career looming on the horizon. There was only one thing for it.  
  
"Naomi, I want to be the first and only lawyer that suspect sees. I'll go to the station in an hour. First though, I've got some investigating to do."  
  
"What about Tom?"  
  
"He won't be investigating anything for a while – laid up in hospital, so now the best we have is me. Don't worry, I may not be big or mean, but I have the power of the law with me at all times."  
  
Giving her a teasing wink, he rushed out of the office, leaving his flustered secretary to clean up the shower of papers he had blown onto the floor.  
  
"Just be careful, Marty." She sighed to herself.  
  
--------------------------  
  
9:25am  
  
It had been easier than he expected to dodge the reporters, and now Martin Vail was doubly sure that it pays to be dressed somewhat less than smartly in his line of work. Not only does it throw people off guard, it also allows him to blend in with his surroundings, and even sneak around with relative ease. To help even further, he had left his briefcase in the car, and just had a notepad tucked into his pocket.

Approaching The Hollows from the back, Vail thought it looked even more forbidding than it had on the news, though the mob of reporters were thankfully absent. Grease squirmed its way around the pipes, and mould dotted the bricks, giving them an eerie sheen. The windows were all barred, and despite of this, there were few of them intact on the lower floors.  
  
Inside the building wasn't much better. The door squealed as if tortured, and the bare boards squeaked with moisture under his feet. Most of the rooms were occupied, and the doors were a motley collection of the original metal, and bolted wood. Larger rooms had been broken up with flimsy partitions, and people had tried to make them as secure as possible: a necessity in a place like this.

On the second floor, all the doors were heavily locked, and his knocking yielded no reply. This floor seemed even more crowded with rooms, and though he knew people were present they merely refused to answer or shouted abuse.Vail was just about to give up when he came to the last room on the corridor, at the corner of the building. The door was slightly ajar and as Vail watched he could see someone shuffling about inside. He decided to keep the polite approach, and knocked on the door.

Immediately there was a sharp bang, and Vail flinched. Then the sound of swift footsteps and the door was braced from behind, and left open a mere crack.  
  
"What do you want?" The voice was strangely young, and held more than a hint of apprehension.  
  
"I just want to ask you a few questions."  
  
"Who are you?" The voice was now more fearful, and Vail got the feeling that he had to act fast.  
  
"Look, my name is Martin Vail. I'm an attorney. I just want to ask you if you know anything about the murder – If you heard anything or saw anything. I'm not a police officer, and I will make sure you remain anonymous."  
  
The door quivered slightly, and then opened; revealing a boy no older than eighteen. He had large blue eyes that looked very frightened, and his pale blond hair fell loosely over his forehead, making him appear almost angelic. His mouth was twisted into a nervous expression, and his thin hands gripped the door just a bit too tightly. He inched the door open a little more, and then released it, giving it another glance as if he expected it to move by itself.  
  
"Just stay there, sir. I have to tidy up."  
  
He crossed over to the narrow cot, and started packing several things away. The door wasn't open enough for Vail to see, so he took a step forward, arms outstretched.  
  
"There's really no need – "  
  
"I'm afraid there is sir. People here will steal anything if you leave your door open for just a little while."  
  
"Perhaps I can help."  
  
Vail started forward again.  
  
"Stay right there, Sir. I don't like people other than myself being in here, and if you are an attorney you know the law."  
  
Vail smiled. "And what is that?"  
  
The boy's eyes never left his own.  
  
"Since I have a legal written contract of lease with the rightful owner of this property, which has been met and fulfilled; any unauthorised entry on behalf of yourself could result in you being charged with trespassing."  
  
"And if I contested?"  
  
"I would take you to court for also gathering evidence in a murder enquiry when you have no legal permission to do so and without producing identification. If that is your grey car outside my window, you would also be fined for parking illegally, causing an obstruction at a crime scene and interfering with possible witnesses."  
  
The boy grinned, and turned his back on Vail, leaving him to pick his jaw up off the floor and back swiftly out of the room.  
  
"You...how do you know all this?"  
  
The boy held up one of the things he was shoving under the cot.  
  
"This, a book of Law. I'm doing the course in my spare time – Gonna try to get a job someday."  
  
"You have a job now?"  
  
"Cleaning at the Library"  
  
"Cleaning? Christ! You can do better than that, kid. How would you like a job in my office. I just lost a good man on my team, and if you work hard and finish the course while you're with me, there may be a possibility for promotion in the future. What do you say? You would start at $500 a week, and I'd get some decent accommodation sorted for you."  
  
The boys eyes grew larger, and he jumped off the bed, his face lit up with excitement.  
  
"Really? You'd do that for me?"  
  
"I could do with some young blood in my office, and if you prove to me that you are capable I don't see why you can't become a permanent part of the team. So, you in?"  
  
"Of course! When can I start?"  
  
"Well I was supposed to be interviewing you about the murder, but let's get you settled somewhere first. Go and see your landlord this afternoon and get your contract terminated. I know a perfect apartment for you."  
  
"Sir," The boy said with a smile "I don't have a landlord. Lucky for you, huh?"  
  
Vail laughed. "Yes it is! Well come on then and pack."  
  
The boy pulled out a case from under his bed.  
  
"Already am."  
  
"Well then, let's go. What's your name, kid?"  
  
The boy looked at him with his angel eyes.  
  
"Stampler. Aaron Stampler."  
  
"Well then Aaron, how about we go to see your new place, and then I can finally interview you?"  
  
"Okay Sir – "  
  
"My name is Martin Vail, Aaron."  
  
"– Mr Vail, I'd just like to say: I have no idea why he'd do such a thing..."  
  
"You knew him? The suspect?"  
  
"Yes Mr Vail, he's my best friend. His name is Alex, but they are calling him "The Hollows Butcher Boy."  
  
"Jesus. I have to see him later, but you don't have to come Aaron. I hope for his sake he's innocent."  
  
They had reached Vail's illegally parked car. Vail put the small suitcase in the back, and then they both climbed in. The imposing nature of the building forced them both to look up in awe.  
  
"Mr Vail?"  
  
"Yes, Aaron?"  
  
"When you see Alex...be careful."  
  
"I'm assuming he's innocent - I have to defend him."  
  
"I hope he is innocent too, Mr Vail." 


	3. Beginnings

**"Suppose…"**  
  
**Chapter 3 - Beginnings**  
  
Chicago. 1:00pm  
  
Vail rummaged round in his briefcase and checked for the fourth time that he hadn't forgotten anything. He always felt nervous without Naiomi watching over him, and today he hadn't had time to call into the office as he usually did before an important interview. The sound of footsteps behind him caused him to turn round with a start. Aaron stood in the doorway. His freshly washed hair floated gently around his face like a halo, and though his thin frame caused his suit to hang rather than be worn, he gave the impression of utter contentment as he leaned slightly on the frame and said in his soft voice:  
  
"I hope I didn't scare you, Mr Vail."  
  
Vail breathed a sigh of relief. He _had_ for a second thought there was an intruder in the house. Then he remembered that he had said Aaron could stay with him for a few weeks until he could find a more permanent home.  
  
"No, you're alright Aaron. I like the suit."  
  
"Thanks Mr Vail. It's not expensive or anything though."  
  
"You look great. Trust me."  
  
Vail picked up his case and checked his appearance in the mirror. Not bad really. Okay his tie wasn't straight and his shoes had seen better days, but he was an attorney not a male model and he didn't expect to be changing his habits anytime soon.  
  
"Right, I'm off now. You sure you will be okay here Aaron? You can watch TV or read, and help yourself to food from the fridge."  
  
"Thanks again for everything, Mr Vail. Good luck with your interview."  
  
"Thanks Aaron. See you later."  
  
Aaron's brow creased for a second or two as he thought, then he quickly looked up with a start just as Vail opened the door, and called after him.  
  
"Oh Mr Vail!"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Could you please not tell him I'm here? It might be kinda awkward, y'know?"  
  
"Sure."  
  
Vail nodded, then realising he was already late made a run for his car through the rain. Aaron followed him to the door and gently guided it closed.

--------------------------------

1:40pm  
  
Everything was grey, from the bleak expanse of the parking lot to the dull walls inside. Vail shuddered as the heavy door slammed behind him, and glanced nervously round for a friendly face. He found none. Summoning his nerve, he walked over to a large counter and tried to look as authoritative as possible:  
  
"I'm here to see Alex Merren."  
  
The burly officer in his too-small starched uniform gave him a withering look.  
  
"What do you want with that little bastard?"  
  
"The name's Martin Vail. I'm an attorney, soon to be Mr Merren's attorney; and if you don't uphold the innocent-until-proven-guilty on my watch I'll have you hauled in for unfair treatment. Do you understand?!"  
  
Vail looked calmer then he felt. The officer looked slightly perturbed, but soon recovered. His eyes narrowed, and he hissed:  
  
"Whatever. You'll see soon enough he doesn't have a hope in hell. He's gonna fry, Mr Big-Shot attorney. You with him, if you are so stupid as to try to defend the murdering little shit."  
  
Raising his voice, his tone changed to monotonous drill.  
  
"Down the hall. Turn left. Straight ahead 'till you come to a gate. The guy there will take you in, No guns, no cameras."  
  
Vail glanced at the officers name badge, and jotted something down on a pad. Smiling sweetly up at the glowering man, he said:  
  
"Thank you, Officer Dolan. You've been most helpful."  
  
He felt the man's eyes burning into his back as he wandered into the bowels of the prison, and the lights grew ever dimmer.  
  
Ten minutes later, Vail had been stripped of everything but his legal tablet, his pen and a few papers. His pockets felt strangely smooth and light as he quashed his bubbly anticipation and put on what he thought was an impassive expression. The guard led him down a flight of stairs, and then he was looking upon a dingy corridor, the walls crisscrossed with damp. Walking slowly, Vail peered into the cells with a mixture of fear and curiosity. Men lay as if in a trance, others reached pleading hands towards the guard, who refused to look their way. One man hurled himself at the door, yelling torrents of abuse and frightening Vail out of his wits. He rushed to catch up with the guard as he stopped at a cell more than halfway down the long corridor.  
  
"This is it."  
  
Vail looked nervously inside. A skinny teenager with a tangled mess of black hair sat hugging his knees on a narrow bed. His face was pale and pinched with cold, and he had a contained fierceness about him, even in confinement.  
  
"Looks the part, doesn't he?" The guard said; though he too seemed uneasy. "Denied everything, and gave the cops on duty hell when they tried to cuff him - caught two of 'em by surprise. He threw himself round a lot in here too at first, now I think he must be hurting, 'cause he hasn't done nothing for a good hour or so."  
  
Vail could see even from where he stood that the youth's knuckles and fingers had been bleeding badly, and his thin fame was covered in spreading bruises.  
  
"You still sure you wanna go in?" Asked the guard.  
  
"Yes, thanks."  
  
"I have to lock the door behind you - "  
  
" - I know. I'll be fine."  
  
As soon as the door closed behind him, Vail regretted his decision. Before the echo had died the boy's head turned sharply in his direction, he registered a turmoil of emotions cross his face before it settled on undisguised fury and contempt.  
  
"Who the hell are you?"  
  
He sprang off the bed and walked up to Vail, getting in his face. Vail could see a single earring, a satanic inverted crucifix swaying hypnotically back and forth as Alex studied him.  
  
"Well? What did they send you in here for?"  
  
"My name is Martin Vail. I'm a lawyer. I came to offer to represent you in court."  
  
"Oh, really?" Alex didn't look convinced, and his voice dripped with sarcasm. "What's in it for you? I've heard a hundred times today that I am going to fry. If we're so likely to lose then why do you want to put your ass on the line for me? I'm a nobody!"  
  
He stomped over to the bed and threw himself down, his limbs shaking. Vail knew he had to tread carefully, the boy could go for him at any moment. His sanity was stretched to breaking point.  
  
"I am here to see you get a fair trial. Now all you have to do if you agree to my representation is to answer all questions truthfully, and if you are innocent then you have nothing to worry about - "  
  
"I _am_ innocent, you asshole!" Alex yelled at him, his eyes suddenly wide and his wild gestures becoming violent. "Those bastards didn't give me a chance to explain, they just came after me and WHAM! They hit me 'till I saw stars then shut me in here. I was so scared I hit them back - now I'm also charged with "resisting arrest!" How do I know you're not the same?!"  
  
"Look, Alex." Vail held out his hands in a pleading gesture. "I'm sorry. I promise I am trying to help you. I do not let innocent men die; I promise you that. You are innocent - so we will get you out of here. All I need you to do is to sign this form agreeing to my assistance, and then I can start to work out what happened and build a case, okay?"  
  
Alex still looked mutinous, but reluctantly plucked the paper from Vail's hands and signed it in a sloppy scrawl. Then he sat back down on the bed, limbs coiled like a spider, waiting for Vail to begin.  
  
"Please state your full name"  
  
"Alexander Merren."  
  
"Where do you live?"  
  
"The Hollows, Chicago."  
  
"How old are you?"  
  
"Nineteen."  
  
"He looks about fifteen." Vail thought.  
  
"Any family?"  
  
"They don't care about me. My dad was always drunk and my mother left him years ago. I bet he doesn't even remember me."  
  
"Where does your father live?"  
  
"Oh great - you're not gonna go to see him are you? He couldn't give a shit about me anyway!"  
  
"It's just to establish background, Alex. I need as much information as possible. You don't mind so much if it helps you get out of here, right?"  
  
"Okay, okay. He lives in Columbia, Maryland."  
  
Vail jotted it down.  
  
"Okay Alex, it's time for the really serious stuff. Just answer truthfully - remember this is an official paper - Did you kill Marie Burnett?"  
  
"No, I didn't."  
  
"The murder occurred at approximately 8:45am in Sycamore Lane that runs alongside The Hollows. Where were you at the time of the murder?"  
  
Alex's eyes darkened.  
  
"I was in Sycamore Lane - It's a shortcut to the back door of The Hollows! I didn't kill her though, that was…" He trailed off, and put his head in his hands as if the memory pained him.  
  
"That was who? You saw the murderer?!" Vail's eyes opened in surprise.  
  
"No, no I didn't. I walked down there on the way back to my rooms. I'd been at work, and I wasn't really looking where I was goin'. Then I fell over onto something - It was that girl - only she was all cut up and there was blood everywhere. Then I saw someone in the shadows behind a crate. They stood up and ran at me and then I blacked out. When I came to, there was a knife in my hand and I was covered in blood. Lights and sirens came from nowhere and surrounded me, so I threw the knife down and just ran. God I was terrified! The cops ran after me and got me, and then I ended up here. You know the rest."  
  
"You saw Marie's body, and then you blacked out?"  
  
"Hey Mister, I know it sounds stupid. But the guy who did it must have framed me. When I woke up there was a knife in my hand and everything!"  
  
"The Officer in charge says you identified the knife as yours."  
  
"Yes! But I didn't take it with me that day - I was working! Someone set me up, you gotta believe me!"  
  
Vail could see he was getting very agitated again, so he decided to call it a day.  
  
"Okay Alex. I'm gonna follow this up. I'll get the guard to move you to a better room, and next time we meet we'll go over more details. I'm also going to get a doctor to look at you. Is that okay?"  
  
"Sure, if it helps."  
  
"That's the spirit!" Vail smiled. "Now get some rest. I'll see you again soon."  
  
"Okay. Whatever." Alex turned over on the bed to face the wall.  
  
Vail strode out of the jail without looking back.

-----------------------------

By the time Vail returned to his apartment, he wasn't in the mood for more interviewing. He kept thinking how close Alex had come to harming him - too damned close in his opinion. He meant to be much more careful next time, but it was going to be difficult to get the information he wanted. So far the forensic evidence against Alex was formidable, and even he couldn't see a way to disprove Alex hadn't taken the knife with him. The only avenue open to him was to establish doubt over the motive, and he intended to do a very good job. They hadn't told him the prosecutor's name yet, but Vail knew they would be very good. They had to be - they were facing him. The state could not afford to lose another 5 million dollars to his clients.  
  
When he got back, Aaron had straightened the apartment in a cautious-visitor fashion, and he sat watching the TV. Vail reassured him that he wouldn't badger him with questions that evening, and so instead after dinner they discussed Aaron's studies, and Vail discovered that he was a lot more intelligent than he had even first thought. He seemed to have an encyclopaedic knowledge of his books of law, and though his communication and practical experience was virtually nil, his amazing memory had caused to form the beginnings of what Vail already anticipated to be a formidable attorney.  
  
"We'll make a great lawyer out of you yet!" Vail laughed, after Aaron had out-quoted him third time running.  
  
"That's very kind of you to say, but I have little or no experience."  
  
"That's why you are here, working for me. I promise you, you will get a hell of a lot of experience here; perhaps more than you would like. However, it's essential in the field."  
  
Aaron nodded.  
  
""Will I have to help with Alex's case?"  
  
He didn't seem to excited at the prospect. Vail reassured him.  
  
"You'll never have to see him. It'll mostly be just paperwork, and I might ask you to come with me to do some research. He said he hasn't had contact with his family, so they won't know who you are anyway and I doubt anyone would be in a position to enlighten them."  
  
"Okay then. Sounds good."  
  
"You bet it does! With you helping me this should all be over in no time!"  
  
A few cups of coffee and a lot of animated conversation later, and the chorus of yawning convinced Vail to call it a night. Just before he dozed off, he thought of the two boys - Aaron and Alex. One an angelic, sophisticated-but-poor law student, the other a violent, rebellious youth whom Vail believed was quite capable of murder. Their faces overlapped, and he had but one last thought before his mind drifted away:  
  
"They couldn't be more different…"  
  
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Okay, this ended up a lot longer than I thought, so part of what I wanted to include has been left for the start of chapter four. I think it should work out alright though, since I like the idea of stopping the chapter as Vail falls asleep. Apologies again for fans of the film and book who would like to skewer me for all the terrible things I have done to the plot, and also sorry for any too-English expressions, mistakes in Law or just general incompetence - nobody's perfect! Fans of the film - please excuse the Columbia reference, but I'm not good with place names in the US anyway so I take anything I can get. Thanks go to those people who have reviewed so far, I appreciate the help.

Thanks must also be handed out to BasketweaverJesser, who has helped me with some of the phrases in the last two chapters so that I don't look like an idiot. I'm always grateful for the advice!


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